Military Men Have No Talent
by Legendarily Quiet
Summary: It wasn't Roy's fault that the Fuhrer's idea of fun belonged in a different dimension, and it wasn't his fault that his men had no USELESS talents. Still . . . at this rate he would be made a laughingstock for sure. Rated T for language. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Legendarily Quiet does not own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of the songs used in this . . . fanfiction.**

* * *

Roy Mustang rested his head on his desk. He could already feel the beginnings of a migraine behind his eyes. Why him, of all people? Just because Fuhrer Bradley had decided that the military needed to 'have a bit of fun', didn't mean that they needed to have a 'festival', with entertainment provided by the soldiers of the military, that Roy had to sign up someone from his team to perform in!

Roy got irritated just by thinking about it. What did people take him for? Just because he was the Flame Alchemist and could do flashy stuff with fire didn't mean he was some kind of street performer! Everyone else on his team was out of the question . . . those buffoons would just embarrass him on stage.

A knock sounded on the colonel's office door. Roy quickly lifted his head off his desk and grabbed his pen. Hawkeye entered the room, with her arms full of – you guessed it – more paperwork. Joy.

"Fuhrer Bradley has just sent out a message sir," Hawkeye said, setting the papers down on his desk, "The entertainment for the festival is not allowed to involve alchemy."

Roy put down his pen. "What?" he asked dumbly.

Hawkeye gave a little sigh before saying, "You have to provide 'common' entertainment for people. Things like juggling, singing, dancing, drama – anything that non-alchemists and civilians could do too." She frowned. "That means no alchemy, and no gun shows."

Roy groaned and put his head in his hands. "You can't be serious Lieutenant," he said. "The men here have no talent! That's why we join the military!"

"Hey! I beg to differ. I know for a fact that Breda has some mad dancing skills." Havoc stuck his head through the office door, having heard the conversation. "We could have him dance on stage!"

There was a chorus of laughter from the outer office, and the sounds of Breda protesting could be heard. "We could have _you _do a skit on one hundred ways to lose your girlfriend!" Breda shot back. The silence that ensued let everyone know that Havoc had been owned.

Roy turned his attention back to Riza, and gave her a coy smile. "You know Lieutenant," he said, "you would be a hit–"

"I respectfully decline, sir," Hawkeye cut him off before he could even finish his suggestion, "and the performances must be appropriate for all ages. This is a family event."

Damn. Another opportunity lost. "Well, what do you propose we do?" he asked. "Who here is talented enough not to get booed of the stage within the first thirty seconds?"

"We can hold an audition sir," Hawkeye suggested. "We can see what everyone's talents are. We can even call Edward here as well."

"Ah, yes." Roy looked at his calendar. "Well what do you know; the shrimp is due to report in today."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY AN ANT COULD TRAMPLE HIM?!" Edward surprised everyone in the office when he appeared from out of nowhere. In a whirlwind of red, he ran into the colonel's office, slamming the door shut behind him. He slammed his report on Roy's desk and declared, "I'm not short, damn it!"

Hawkeye cocked her gun. "Language Edward," she said sternly.

Edward turned to her, surprised. His expression then turned sheepish and he mumbled, "Sorry ma'am."

"I've got it!" Roy snapped his fingers – luckily he wasn't wearing his gloves – and announced, "We can have Fullmetal do his short rants for the performance!" Edward looked at him in confusion while Riza just looked disappointed at her superior's lack of maturity.

"What performance?" Ed asked.

"The military will be hosting a festival here in Central," Hawkeye explained, "soldiers from all departments have been asked to provide entertainment."

"Well, you can count me out!" Edward said, ambling over to the couch in the office. He flopped down on it and said, "Can you just read my report so I can get the hell out of here?"

Edward's face suddenly blanched as he remembered that Hawkeye was still in the room. "Sorry, Lieutenant!" he said, sitting upright and looking ready to bolt. Hawkeye sighed, but decided to forgive Ed because they had more pressing matters at hand.

Roy voiced her thoughts by saying, "I'm not reading _anything _until we have an act for the festival, Fullmetal."

Edward huffed and got up to leave. "I'll come back later then. But seeing as you're a first class procrastinator, you probably won't be seeing me again until sometime next month!" With a low chuckle he slipped out the door.

"GET BACK HERE FULLMETAL!"

* * *

Mustang stood in the outer office, facing all his subordinates. "Men," he began, "the time has come to step up and show me how strong your loyalty to me really is." He looked each of them in the eye, who each looked back solemnly, except for Edward, who glared at him. "Who here is willing to volunteer to perform at the festival?"

He was met with dead silence.

Roy sighed. "Thank-you everyone, for being so ready to answer the call." Everyone – except Edward – looked guiltily at their feet. "It looks like I have no choice but to _force _the talent out of you."

Around the room, officers paled. Fuery clasped his hands together tightly, and Falman looked like he was trying to disappear in a corner. Breda and Havoc somehow looked amused and worried at the same time, while Edward just looked bored. Hawkeye stood dutifully at Roy's side, face devoid of any expression.

"Let the auditions commence!"

* * *

The first thing the colonel did was check to see if Breda did in fact have mad dancing skills. He did not. The same went for Falman and Fuery. Falman had done this boring shuffle move with his feet, while Fuery had just stood there, sweating like crazy. Edward had refused to move at all at first, and only got up when the colonel threatened to lower his research budget. He executed a number of martial arts moves that didn't look half bad, but didn't count because they were too closely related to the military. The most promising candidate had been Havoc, but his dance moves were too . . . suggestive, so he had been disqualified. Hawkeye was excused from dancing because there was no way Mustang was going to let other officers drool at his lieutenant moving her body on stage.

"Hey! Colonel Bastard, what about you?" Edward pointed at Mustang accusingly when he tried to move on to the next act. "You have to dance too. You're part of this team; it's only fair."

Mustang just smirked at him. "My moves are quite pleasing to the eye," he said. "We don't need mothers swooning after seeing me, leaving their children unattended."

The next act was juggling. Everyone but Breda and Fuery were able to do it perfectly. But it was too perfect. It was so perfect it was just plain boring to watch. The balls were being thrown in the air and caught again, but there was no flair. Not until Edward started chucking the balls at Havoc and Breda, but since this was a family event there was a danger of kids being injured if Fullmetal did that at the festival.

"You know what?" Havoc said. "The colonel is right; military men have no talent."

"No _useless _talent," Edward corrected.

Damn right.

Roy knew that everyone on his team except for Fullmetal and maybe Fuery was good at acting. The question though was: what scene could they possibly act without losing their dignity? The rule that all things related to military were not allowed was a big bummer. Conveying information to Havoc under the guise of talking to a girl over the phone was normally no big deal, but doing it in front of many people when there was no purpose behind it? That bordered on insanity.

With options running out, everyone in the office – except for Fullmetal – looked downcast. Roy panicked on the inside. If they couldn't come up with something, Mustang would be a laughingstock. He would be known as the colonel with a team that couldn't do anything worth shit. There was only one last thing to try.

"Ok guys," Roy said wearily. "Let's see if anyone here can sing. . ."

Fuery turned into a stuttering mess the moment all eyes were on him. "Tw-twinkle, twinkle, li-li-little s-staaar."

Nuh-uh. Military men were definitely not going to be represented by _that._

Falman didn't even try. Everyone understood though; the man was always better at listening and _not_ drawing attention to himself.

Breda was very enthusiastic. But he was _way _out of tune. "HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT! C'MON AND HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT! HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT, FIRE AWAAAY-AY-AY!"

That was a big no-no. There was no way Roy was going to be held responsible for inflicting that torture upon the public.

Havoc wasn't too bad, but his lungs were very weak – from smoking, no doubt – so his voice wasn't noteworthy, just average. "Juliet, marry me you'll never have to be alone. I love you, and _that's_ all I really know!"

Like Falman, Hawkeye also refused to sing. Everyone protested – she's a woman, of course she can sing! – but after hearing the click of her gun everyone promptly shut up.

And to be honest Mustang did not want to have to sing either . . .

Fullmetal surprised them all. Roy figured he should have been expecting it; Ed's lungs were really powerful – to be able to rant that strongly for that _long _– but this was just astounding. Edward didn't even shout, yet everyone could _feel _the power and emotion in his voice.

"Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymooore! Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door!"

Roy felt his jaw hit the ground. He sounded just like a professional! All around the office, everyone was staring at Ed in shock. Edward was oblivious to the reactions of his audience though; for some reason his eyes were shut, and he continued singing.

"HERE I STAAND, AND HERE I'LL STAY. LET THE STORM RAGE OOON!"

Oh my gosh. Was that a vibrato Fullmetal was doing? Roy felt shivers go down his spine. How the hell was this sound coming out of a sixteen year old boy in front of him?

Edward closed the song by singing something about the cold, and completely transformed. The passionate singer they had seen not more than two seconds ago suddenly became the bored, disinterested, grumpy teenager they all knew him to be.

Silence reigned in the office, but everyone's minds were buzzing. Edward stood there and glared and everyone. "What?" he finally asked, his voice laden with annoyance.

Roy was the first to break out of his stupor. "Well, we've found our act for the festival."

It was comical, really. Edward stood there with a confused expression on his face, before his eyes suddenly widened in understanding and horror. Before anyone could stop him, he was streaking towards the door. Unfortunately, what would have been the fastest departure known to mankind was interrupted when Alphonse chose that moment to open the door from the other side. Ed ran right into his brother.

CLANG!

"Quick! Don't let him escape!" Mustang ordered.

Before Edward could regain his senses, Breda and Havoc were on him like a pack of wolves. Alphonse stood in front of the mess of flailing limbs, and Roy felt a twinge of sympathy for the confused boy.

"ALPHONSE! SAVE ME!" Ed cried out in desperation.

That was all the encouragement Al needed to spring into action. He dove into the fray, and Ed was sitting safely atop his shoulders in an instant.

"Alphonse, let us explain. We need Edward." Hawkeye, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Just hear us out, please."

Edward shook his head violently. "Don't listen to them Al! Let's just get the hell out of here!"

It was clear to Roy that Ed _really _did not want to sing at the festival. But the colonel was definitely not about to let such talent go to waste. Still . . . he almost felt sorry for Fullmetal.

Almost.

Fullmetal was a dog of the military, and he had to do his part. There was no way he was going to weasel out of this one.

Roy stepped forward. With a small smirk gracing his features, he told the younger Elric all about the festival and what was required of military soldiers. As he watched Al's demeanour turn from worried to thoughtful, he knew with complete certainty that he would not be made a laughingstock after all.

* * *

**L.Q: **I found this little treasure while looking through some old files.

**Lest: **I had completely forgotten about this!

**L.Q: **Dude, you weren't even _there_ when I wrote it . . . how could you forget if you never knew about it in the first place?

**Lest: **. . .

**L.Q: **Anyways, I found a second chapter to this, but when I opened it, I found that it cut off right in the middle of a sentence, so I can only assume that I had been planning to write more . . .

**Lest: **Keep a look out for it! It'll be posted . . . eventually. Until then, please leave a review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Legendarily Quiet does not own Fullmetal Alchemist or the song used in this fanfiction.**

* * *

Edward Elric couldn't believe it. He sighed and ran a hand down his face as voices from the crowd drifted to where he was standing offstage. He had been betrayed by his own brother. How could Al possibly think that it was wonderful that he had been nominated to sing at the festival? Damn it! What the hell possessed him to do that back there in the bastard's office in the first place?

Ed sighed again; he had no one to blame but himself. He should've kept his mouth shut, but they were just so _pathetic. _What had condemned him was his uncontrollable urge to help people in need, and boy did those people need help.

Edward closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, lifting one foot up. He had briefly entertained the notion of screwing them all and running away, but Mustang had done the whole do-as-I-say-or-I'll-expose-your-secret-and-your-brother-will-end-up-in-a-lab thing, and Al had emitted his pleading, puppy dog aura, so Ed had had no choice. Really, when it came to Al, there _was _no choice. The answer would always be yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

After all, after what Ed had done to him, it was the least he could do now.

If Al suddenly decided that Ed should walk around in a full suit of armour, Ed wouldn't complain. If Al told him that he could only eat plain rice and stale toast from now on, it would only be fair. If Al wanted his big brother to sing on stage, who was Ed to deny him?

Until he got his body back, he could ask Ed to do anything in the world, and Ed would do it. Heck, he'd probably do whatever Al asked him to do once he got his body back too. It was only a matter of _when, _not _if, _because in the end, there was nothing Ed wouldn't do, nothing he wouldn't give, to see his brother whole and smiling again.

And he planned to tell him that.

"Brother?"

Edward opened his eyes and pushed off from the wall he was leaning on as his brother came up to meet him. Al stopped before him, but couldn't seem to keep still, shifting from left to right.

Ed shook off his thoughts and smiled up at him. "There you are. I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

"I'll be in the audience when you go on. I came to wish you luck, Brother."

Ed snorted. "Oh please, luck has nothing to do with it! Whether I get booed off the stage or receive a standing ovation will be based entirely on my own talent." He looked to the side. "But thanks anyway."

Al chuckled. "You're welcome. But to be honest, I didn't think you _needed _any luck – I've heard you in the shower."

"Al!"

Al laughed and ran off, waving over his shoulder. "I'll see you later, Brother!"

"Yeah yeah." Edward turned away with a hmph, but had a soft smile gracing his lips.

* * *

"Do you really think that this is a good idea?" Fuery looked timidly to the side as all eyes suddenly turned to him. "I mean, Edward didn't really get a say –"

"Of course he didn't get a say, Fuery," Mustang said as he relaxed into his seat. "But orders are orders, and Fullmetal _will _follow them for once."

"Don't worry about Chief," Havoc said with a grin, settling into his own chair, "it'll take more than this to kill him."

"Please, you're all just being dramatic." Hawkeye came out of nowhere and sat in the empty seat beside Mustang. "Edward will probably enjoy himself up there, right Alphonse?"

"Uh, I don't know about that," Alphonse said nervously. "But if he _really _didn't want to do it, he wouldn't be up there at all right now."

"See? The brat will be fine." Breda crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "I just hope his performance doesn't take too long; I want to check out the food stand we saw back there."

Falman didn't make any comment, but Al supposed that everything had already been said. He shifted slightly behind their seats, at the very back of the audience. His bulk was too big for it to be convenient for him to get a front row seat, but he still had a good view from the back, and he was sure that Ed would be able to see him.

A hush fell over the chattering crowd and Havoc leaned forward in his seat excitedly. "It's starting now!"

"Yeah, so shut up!" Breda whacked the back of his head, and Havoc turned towards him angrily. Before things could escalate, Hawkeye clicked the safety off her gun and both men promptly settled back into their seats.

The curtains withdrew with a flourish and the Fullmetal Alchemist was shown standing in the middle of the stage. He blinked against the light that was shining in his face and Al felt a twinge of sympathy for his brother. Despite all his flashiness, Ed was really a private person.

The music started, and Al could practically feel the crowd holding its breath in anticipation. Hearing the first few notes, Alphonse realized that he did not know the song that Edward was going to sing.

He only hoped that Edward wouldn't embarrass him.

From his spot in the very back, Al could see his brother gripping the microphone tightly – in his flesh hand, thank goodness – and he swallowed before raising it to his mouth. Alphonse didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't what he heard.

_Haunted by the past,_

_ A nightmare that seems so unreal_

_ Wish that I could turn back time,_

_ And spare the pain that we both feel_

_ And now, we've changed_

_ Things will never be the same_

_ (Things will never be the same)_

Mustang sat straight up in his seat, and if Al had had any breath it would've hitched. Was Ed going to sing what he thought he was going to sing?

_We were foolish then,_

_ But our trials served to make us strong_

_ The burdens are not yours alone,_

_ We've sought the answers for so long_

_ But they're not free_

_ They cost you more than they cost me_

_ (My brother . . .)_

All of Mustang's team turned in their seats to look at Al, but he barely registered their stares under the onslaught of emotions that fell upon him. His brother was singing about their life brother was singing _to him. _

_I promise you, there is nothing I won't give_

_ To see this through,_

_ Return the soul to where it lives_

If Al had had any doubt before, all of it was blown away in that instant. Ed was saying everything so clearly and straight up, he'd be an idiot not to see it for what it was. Ed was promising him, yet again, that he would get him his body back someday.

_I promise you, I'd go everywhere I've been_

_ To find a way, to make atonement for my sin and see,_

_ See your smiling face again_

Mustang suddenly got up from his seat and started making his way along the edge of the crowd, Hawkeye not far behind him. In the back of his mind, Al worried that Ed might be saying too much, but he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

_When we pay the price at last,_

_ And we are whole once more_

_ Life will be the way it was,_

_ The way it was before the day_

_ She slipped away_

_ Together we'll redeem that day!_

_ And I promise you, there is nothing I won't give,_

_ To see this through,_

_ Return the soul to where it lives_

_ I promise you, I'd go everywhere I've been_

_ To find a way, to make atonement for my sin and see,_

_See your smiling fa–_

Al was so caught up in the song, that when the curtains suddenly swung closed and the music abruptly cut off, he let out an outraged cry right along with the rest of the crowd. Colonel Mustang made his way onto the stage to face the booing of the crowd, and Al was surprised to feel a bit of anger inside him flare up at the man. What did he think he was doing, cutting his brother off like that?

Such a heartfelt confession was not often made by his brother, and Al knew that if he had had his body back, he would've been crying. Did his brother write this song just to sing it to him? Al knew that when it came to him, Ed would never do anything half-way or half-heartedly. Alphonse knew that he was loved by his brother with a passion, but it was one thing to know it, and another thing to _experience _it, like he did today.

He let the words of Mustang's apologies to the crowd wash over him, not really paying attention. Perhaps the man had been worried that their secret would somehow be exposed, or maybe he somehow found Ed's song to be inappropriate. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter, because Alphonse already knew this song; he just hadn't recognized it earlier.

It was a tune that Edward sang every day. The verses were found in the guilty looks Ed gave him when he didn't think Al was paying attention. It was shown in the way Ed always carried on for him, not stopping to take a moment's rest, as if he thought the least he could do was push himself until he collapsed. The chorus rang out when Ed would reassure him of his existence and promise him, _promise, _that he would do anything to get Alphonse his body back.

* * *

Edward blinked his eyes in the sudden dimness that had enveloped him. The microphone wasn't working anymore, and the music had been cut off. He could hear the voice of Colonel Bastard trying to pacify an angry crowd, and he felt the urge to snicker at the man's position. Let _him _see how hard it was to deal with an angry mob. Maybe now he'd understand what Edward had to deal with on his missions.

Edward looked down at his feet and let his grip on the microphone slacken. He hadn't been _that _bad, had he? What had caused Mustang to cut his performance short like that? Sure, his lyrics had been a bit . . . explicit, but the only military members in the crowd were the ones on Mustang's team, and they already knew about the taboo he had committed. Surely the civilians would think nothing of it?

Edward bent down slowly and placed the microphone on the ground. He straightened up and made his way to the edge of the stage. It didn't matter what the civilians thought. He hadn't been doing it for them anyway. Edward hopped off the stage and landed lightly on the grass. What had his brother thought of the song? He had meant for it to be reassuring . . . but maybe Al would think that he was just rubbing salt into an open wound. Of course he didn't need to be reminded of that he couldn't smile, when he had an endless amount of waking hours to dwell on it! Edward sighed and hung his head down.

He only hoped that Alphonse would be able to forget this day.

"Brother!"

Ed looked up as his brother came clanking up to him for the second time. He opened his mouth to say something – anything – but before he could get a word out, he found himself locked in a metal embrace.

"Thank-you Brother . . ."

* * *

**L.Q: **The song is "Nothing I Won't Give", by Vic Mignogna, who is also the English voice actor for Edward, in case you didn't know.

**Lest: **You guys should check out the song on YouTube! Seriously, just open another tab . . . you won't regret it.

**L.Q: **But before you leave, please gift us with a review!


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